


Supervision Required

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 03:37:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sam comes up with a new type of angel restraint, and gets Cas to help him try them out.Unfortunately, they work too well, and Dean is left to find a way to get Cas free.





	Supervision Required

“Mr Dean?”

Dean put the wrench down when he heard the small voice call his name, and rolled himself out from under Cas’s truck. It was going to take some work before he’d even let Cas get in it again; he was going to have to talk to the angel about what were normal noises and what were noises that meant _pull over and call Dean_.

There was a kid standing in the garage doorway, looking warily around. Dean grabbed a rag to clean off his hands, and got up, gratified to notice the little boy came no closer.

Only a few days before, he’d caught a bunch of the children playing hide and seek around the cars and, grubby little finger marks aside, the garage was just no place for them.

“You okay?” 

“Sam said you need to come fast, because he needs your help.”

Dammit. What now?

++

“You’re friggin’ kidding me,” Dean said.

Cas was leaning against Sam, his brother’s arm around the angel’s shoulders, looking like he was the only thing keeping him on his feet.

“Look, I didn’t know this would happen,” Sam snapped. “Can you just help?”

Dean gave Sam a look that promised they’d be talking further about this later, and then crouched down to look at the thick manacles fastened around Cas’s wrists.

They were cinched tight, and blood was already welling around around the metal bands.

“Dean,” Cas said, warningly.

“It’s okay,” Dean said, gently. “I’m not gonna touch, Cas, I just need to get a look, okay?”

He kept his word, and his hands to himself, but even looking at the cuffs he knew getting Cas out of them was going to be difficult.

Was going to hurt.

“None of the counter spells worked? You tried Rowena?”

Sam nodded. “I’ve left three messages. And I tried every spell that might help. Nothing even cracked them an inch.”

Of course not. And Dean wondered how long Sam had tried before surrendering and sending somebody to him for help. 

And how the hell he’d persuaded Cas to go along with this dumbass idea.

Yeah, they were both dumbasses.

But they were his.

“Well if magic’s not gonna work, I guess we need to do it the non-magical way.”

He went to Cas’s other side and helped Sam guide him from the room.

++

When they’d first arrived, things had been a little too hectic to explore the bunker, but over the following months Dean had pretty much mapped the place out.

It was as if somebody had peered into his head, and shoved everything he’d ever wanted in a home into those walls.

Well, almost everything, and it was a home, for starters, and that alone he’d never thought they’d have.

The machine shop was one of the last rooms he’d discovered.

And Cas was staring in alarm at the bandsaw as Dean started it up.

“It’s the only way,” Dean said. “We need to get those things off you, Cas. You trust me, right?”

Cas nodded, but he didn’t look too happy about Dean’s solution.

Sam guided the angel forward, and held his wrists flat on the table.

Dean had given them both a pair of goggles, just in case (Sam would need them, and for all Dean knew, metal fragments from cuffs spelled to hold an angel might just do said angel damage if they got into his eyes), and put on his own before guiding the blade forward.

The cuffs were welded together, but if they could break the join Dean was pretty sure the magic powering the cuffs would be broken too.

And they needed to do it fast; in the minutes since they’d helped Cas down here, the cuffs had tightened some more, and the angel’s hands were now a dusky colour.

Cas drew in a sharp breath as the blade touched the cuffs; the vibration of it through the metal probably hurt, but Dean had no other option, and he couldn’t sacrifice Cas’s safety for speed.

But Cas was tough; he’d hang in there long enough for Dean to get him free.

Still, he had to force himself to go calm and slow, pressing the moving blade forward millimetre by millimetre until, what seemed like hours later, it was finally all the way through.

Dean quickly turned off the saw, and Sam pulled Cas back; they both took hold of his wrists, and pulled at the cuffs.

There was a faint click, and then both the metal bands opened and came loose in their hands.

Cas gasped as his Grace moved quickly to heal the damage done; the bloody welts faded immediately, and his hands were once again their normal colour.

Dean snatched the other cuff away from Sam, and threw them into the disposal bin where he put things too dangerous to dump with the regular trash.

“Okay,” he said, glancing sternly at _both_ his dumbasses. “New rule; you two aren’t allowed to do anything, _anything_ , at all, without checking with me first. Got it?”

“I didn’t,” Sam started, but the look Dean gave him shut him up.

“That especially involves suggesting, and agreeing to,” he turned a pointed glare at the angel, “trying out _untested_ magic handcuffs. You both got it?”

He was greeted with two shamefaced brothers, and nodded.

Even so, Dean figured he’d better start keeping a closer eye on them both.


End file.
